


Boards

by bodiesnotourown (Israfael)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Figure Skating Verse, M/M, UST, excerpt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-01
Updated: 2012-10-01
Packaged: 2017-11-15 10:34:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/526348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Israfael/pseuds/bodiesnotourown
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean needs to blow off some steam after a week of trying to deal with his new skating partner and unfortunately Sam drags him to a night club, not the bar he was hoping for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Boards

**Author's Note:**

> This is largely inspired by The Cutting Edge as I have an unhealthy love of that movie. However, the main draw from the film is simply that Dean is a hockey player and Castiel is a figure skater and they are forced to skate together. This is an excerpt from a larger fic that has been pushed off to the side for right now. This also has no beta, so any mistakes are 100% mine.

_Oh Gods_

Dean groans internally. When Sam suggested going out to help Dean get over the stick that was shoved up his ass from dealing with asshole of the year Castiel Novak, Dean thought that they would head over to the local bar and get shitfaced. Ellen, and her bar The Roadhouse, were always good for a night of drunken debauchery. Sadly, it seemed, that was not to be as they pulled up the “bar” Sam made him drive to. Bar his ass! The bright neon lights are blinding patterns of pink blue and green. Dean groans again.

“You’ve got to be shitting me, Sammy.”

His sasquatch of a brother just rolls his eyes at him. “You could stand to lighten up a little, you know. Not every issue needs to be drowned in cheap beer at the foot of the Roadhouse’s door step.” With that, he sets off towards the door leaving Dean with the choice to either abandon his little brother to the scary club jungle or follow. Sighing heavily and feeling “too old for this shit”, he leaves his baby behind to find his brother whom has already bypassed the bouncer and made his way inside.

He finds Sam at the bar, ordering what is sure to be the world’s girlies drink. About two seconds later Dean is proven correct as a pink monstrosity with a little orange umbrella slides its way from the bartender to his little brother. This time its Dean’s turn to roll his eyes. God should have given him the little sister that Sam was meant to be from the start. He slides onto the stool next to Sam and orders a beer. After securing his drink, he and his brother spin around to check out the club and its inhabitants. The club itself isn’t huge, but it is dark, lit mainly by the coloured lights on the dance floor and the black lights. The speakers are pumping out whatever crap pop music that he supposes must be popular and Dean finds himself longing for some Sabbath. Most of the club’s patrons that night are out on the dance floor with only a few still up at the bar where he and Sam sit. The guys all seemed to be wearing a uniform of tight pants and tight shirts and he was seeing glimpses of the girls wearing bright colours set off by the black light. What little clothing there was anyhow.

Dean sighs. He's worn out from a week of trying to work with Castiel. He wants to like the guy. Really. It would make the nightmare of being roped into being his skating partner a hell of a lot easier to deal with.  There are only so many times Dean could land on his ass and hear “Toe Pick!” before slitting the dick’s throat with his skate, however. Doesn’t help that Castiel is too attractive for his own good.   _Oh well_  He thinks, scanning the crowd for someone to kill a little time with. There. Across the room is a brunette bombshell in a slinky black dress casting a few come hither looks his way. Dean chuckles to himself, downing the last of his beer, and fixing a cocky grin on his face as he leaves his brother to his daiquiri.

Names become inconsequential as soon as their mouths meet. She kisses like someone who does it for a job and tastes like cigarettes, but Dean doesn't care. She's hot, breathing, and most importantly, not Castiel. She drags him over to the dance floor when a particularly bass driven song came across the air. Nothing better to get a little freaky to, he supposes. Halfway through the song though his eyes drift from the girl currently doing her best to melt their hips together to a lithe form a few feet away. Dean’s eyes travel over the guy, entranced by the sway of his hips in a pair of low slung jeans. His eyes slide up to the guys face and he pauses.  The guy turns his head towards Dean and blue meet green and he stops dancing as well.

_Oh._

Castiel.

After an extremely awkward fifteen seconds of staring at one another, Dean’s dance partner finally notices his lack of participation. She glances over at Castiel and then back to Dean and huffs, annoyed. In a flounce of brown hair she abandons him in favor of more attentive company. Castiel seems to shake himself out of staring at Dean and backs away and turns to leave. Quickly the hockey player manages to latch onto the skater’s wrist and halt his retreat.

“Cas, wait!”

All he gets in return is a glare and a very frosty, “Let me go, Winchester.”

Dean doesn’t respond and instead pulls Castiel closer to him and sucking in a slightly freaked out breath, starts to move his body to the music.

_Well now or never. Here’s hoping he doesn’t deck me._

“Come on, Cas. Bobby keeps telling us we have to sync up better. This is as good of a time as any.” He moves Castiel's body closer to him and puts his free hand on his partner’s hip, pressing enough to force Castiel to move with him. Blue eyes continue to bore into him, but the skater does in fact start swaying as well. Dean took it as a good sign and moved even closer, bringing their bodies to within a few inches of one another. He releases Castiel’s wrist and moves it down to his hip as well and together manage to match the rhythm of the music for the first time since they started skating together. Dean closes his eyes for a moment, teetering on the edge of enjoying having Castiel this close a bit too much. They had been as close in practice, but with the dance floor lighting and the oppressive crush of other bodies and the music, it feels like so much  _more._  Dean feels his himself flush, the first stirrings of arousal making themselves known.  He can feel Castiel’s breath on his neck coming in short puffs, slightly heavier than their dancing requires.

Their hips are flush against one another. Dean’s hands shift slightly from their cautious perch on Castiel’s hips to gripping his lower back and ass. Novak’s hands slide up Dean’s chest, one stopping on his shoulder, the other traveling up higher to the nape of his neck, fingers digging into the base of his skull slightly. The song seamlessly transitions into the next without either party noticing, too preoccupied in feeling as much of each other as possible.

Castiel looks up at Dean, still grinding against the other, fingers moving higher into Dean’s hair. His mouth opens slightly and Dean can't resist the urge, moving his head down to nip at Castiel’s bottom lip. His tongue darts out to flick against where he had bitten and their lips meet in a lazy slide, Castiel’s tongue slipping out to meet Dean’s. He pulls him in tighter, all pretenses of dancing completely forgotten in lieu of tasting one another.

“Alright party people! Next up is [insert boring pop musician here]!”

Castiel freezes for the second time that night, eyes popping open and quickly pushing against Dean. Still in a post make out haze it takes Dean a second to figure out that Castiel is no longer pressed up against him like they were alone. Castiel is panting and looking terrifiedbut before Dean can get a firm grip again the slim skater manages to slip out of his grasp and into the crowd where he looses sight of the disheveled dark hair.

_The fuck, man._

He tries to go after his partner but the DJ had starts playing a faster song, and he is quickly trapped by the mass of bodies. His phone buzzes in this pocket and when he pulls it out a text from Sam reads

Sam: Hey saw you having fun. Found someone to have fun with too. See you tomorrow! =P

_Fantastic._

Dean sighs, and starts his way towards the door, done with his foray into clubbling. His brother ditched him for some broad and he is doomed to head home, obnoxiously aroused by a guy he more often than not hates and probably take all of his frustration out in the shower. He sighs again thinking of the practice he has the next day with the kids team and again with Castiel.

_Fuck. My. Life._


End file.
